* * *
And such a home it was. Full. And never conventional. With orchids and cards filled with the places they dreamed of visiting. With toys all over the floor. And a riding crop in their bedchamber. His life might not be the life that his father thought the Duke of Brigham should have. And for that Briggs gave thanks every day.
Because he did not want to be the Duke of Brigham the way his father wished him to be. He only wished to be Philip. The man that Beatrice loved.
That was his greatest joy in all the world.
Beatrice had set out that day to be the architect of her own ruin. And instead, she had saved them both.
* * *
If you enjoyed this book, why not check out
this other great read by Millie Adams
Claimed for the Highlander’s Revenge
And look out for more stories from Millie Adams, coming soon!
Historical Note
There are a great many elements in Marriage Deal with the Devilish Duke that were not understood widely in the era the book is set, and that is intentional on my part. Had Beatrice’s childhood asthma been understood, and more easily treated, she would not have been weakened by the attempts to ‘cure’ her. If Briggs and his son’s mild Autism Spectrum Disorder had been diagnosed, if their differences had been given a place in society, rather than the forced assimilation that was required, they would have had very different lives—especially Briggs, who I believe, with Beatrice’s help, set about to make a better space in the world for William to be himself.
It is the same with Serena’s mental health and James’s sexuality, and Briggs’s sexuality as well. As a society we ostracized and feared what we did not understand. In our modern times, there are labels for all and everything, but it is not labels (however helpful!) that truly advance society. It is empathy and human connection. Without labels, Beatrice was able to accept people as they were because of her position slightly outside society. She was willing to take someone just as they were, applying the kindest lens to them, which created space even in an era before labels. That is my deepest hope for the future. That we might meet on common ground, rather than focusing on differences. That we might greet people with love, and an open heart, for that is where real progress lies.
Keep reading for an excerpt from Stranded with the Reclusive Earl by Eva Shepherd.
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Your romantic escape to the past.
Be seduced by the grandeur, drama and sumptuous detail of romances set in long-ago eras!
6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
Stranded with the Reclusive Earl
by Eva Shepherd
Chapter One
Cornwall 1890
Lady Iris Springfeld was an enigma. Everywhere she went, the whispers exchanged behind gloved hands and fans were always the same. Why wasn’t she married? After all, she possessed the necessary qualities a man looked for in a wife. She was beautiful, graceful, sweet-natured and was known to come with a sizeable marriage settlement.
During her first Season, when she turned down several proposals, no one thought anything was amiss, as an attractive daughter of an earl could have her pick. She must be waiting for a better offer, everyone assumed. By the end of her second Season, with still no marriage prospects, a few eyebrows were raised, a few questions were asked, but most expected a marriage announcement to happen some time soon. But now that she had reached the advanced age of twenty-three, in the middle of her fifth Season, and still no ring on her finger, Society ladies were avidly discussing the situation.
Something must be wrong with Iris Springfeld.
What the gossips didn’t know was that Iris harboured a closely guarded secret, one she had only shared with her two sisters, Daisy and Hazel. Unlike most members of the British aristocracy, Iris Springfeld was determined to marry for love. Until she met a man she truly loved, one she knew for certain loved her for who she really was, not her pretty face and not her social status, she would remain single.
And that man most certainly would not be Lord Pratley. Iris shuddered and pulled her jacket more tightly around her arms to try and protect herself from the inclement weather. Lord Pratley had been taking full advantage of Iris’s presence at Lady Walberton’s house party to pursue her relentlessly, so relentlessly he
had driven her to take the dramatic action of feigning a headache and telling her mother she needed an early night.
She didn’t like lying to her mother, but what choice did she have? It was the only sensible course of action she could take under the circumstances. She was sure if Lord Pratley had given her one more compliment she would have forgotten every lesson that had been drummed into her on correct etiquette and how a young lady must conduct herself in Society, and would have given him what for.
Iris wiped away the raindrop dripping from her nose. If Lord Pratley could see her now, she doubted if he would be complimenting her on her beauty. Not when that thick blonde hair, which he admired so much, was no longer piled on top of her head in a carefully structured coiffure but hanging in a bedraggled mess down her back. He most certainly would not be describing her now limp locks as like spun gold or silken sunlight. As for her eyes, the ones he had said were as blue as cornflowers, and designed to capture a man’s heart, they were now hardly visible as she squinted through the increasingly heavy rain.